Never Cross a Frenchman
by FlyingButtresses
Summary: Well, the title says it all. This fic is mainly about Jack, it's got Elizabeth in it, but I'm not sure if it's an EJ or an EW. No slash, no lemons, and absolutely no long lost sisters, daughters, or lovers of Jack! Rated M for some serious violence.
1. Chapter One

***NOTE* Okay, this is totally and completely unnecessary, considering the fact that this site is called ****fanfiction.net which denotes the fact that no characters on this site actually belong to the writers unless they've made up an original one, but let's jump on the bandwagon anyway! None of these characters belong to me. Unless I come up with an original character (avoiding a Mary Sue at all costs). Oh yeah, and having seen the appalling spellings of some other fanfictions, I'd like to make a distinction:**

Eh: rhymes with hay; what Canadians say habitually/stereotypically.

Aye: pronounced like "eye". Means yes.

**DO NOT CONFUSE THE TWO!!!**

Now let's get on with the story.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

**Chapter One – A Toast and A Reception**

Captain Jack Sparrow was really quite drunk. Of course, so was the rest of the crew, but he prided himself on being able to hold his rum better than most of them. Although, come to think of it, Gibbs had certainly posed a threat in many a past drinking contest. In any case, the crew was below decks, getting even more drunk and generally embarrassing themselves in various ways. One of the most important rules of piracy: life is short, so when there's reason to celebrate, don't hold back. Slipping out from under the noses of the best officers in the Royal Navy just before getting killed seemed like a good reason to celebrate. 

Jack, however, was not with the crew. He had excused himself right before the third bawdy rendition of "A Pirate's Life for Me," on the grounds that he was the captain and, as such, could do what he bloody well liked. Sometimes he really regretted teaching that song to the crew. Jack paced the deck pensively. His balance was off because of the large amount of alcohol he'd drunk. The hangover he'd have in the morning would be one he'd not soon forget. Well, later on in the morning, at least. These were the wee hours in which most land-lubbers were asleep. They had no lives, those people. Doing their monotonous little chores and moving in their endless, predictable cycles. Piracy was much more exciting, if a bit dangerous, and the rewards were infinitely more pleasing than any kind of satisfaction those unacquainted with the ocean could ever have. Jack hoped Will and Elizabeth didn't have boring lives, though it seemed highly plausible that they did now that he'd left. The aristocracy was not well-known for their sense of fun. They'd occasionally have some kind of ridiculously opulent ball or lavish ceremony, but there was never any rum, and where was the fun in that?

Jack climbed the stairs to the quarterdeck and leaned heavily on the railing. The amber liquid in the brown glass bottle he held sloshed as he took a rather undignified swig, savoring the alcohol's pleasant burning. He raised the bottle to the pale slivers of rising sun.

"Cheers, Will." He downed the remaining liquid and slid to the ground, still leaning against the side of the ship. Jack grinned to himself, tipped his worn leather hat over his eyes, and allowed the rum to take its soporific effect.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Elizabeth and Will smiled artificially as they graciously received yet another solid silver tea set. This time it was Lord and Lady Barclay who were to blame, both of whom shot Will dirty looks as they passed the lace-draped table covered in wedding gifts.

"That makes four," Will sighed glumly, forcing himself to refrain from returning the evil glance. He was dressed in his best finery, plumage and all, and he did not look comfortable in the least.

Elizabeth smiled genuinely. She looked rather happy for someone who was wearing such an unwieldy dress that she had to use Will as a support.    "Oh, cheer up Will. I'm sure they mean well."

"Perhaps, apart from the fact that they think I've married above my station."

Elizabeth prodded him in the ribs.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"Stop being so gloomy! We're married now! It is our duty to keep up appearances."

"Appearances of what? Pompous aristocrats?" Will was rewarded with another sharp poke.

"Pay no attention to them. They don't know what a fine man you are." Elizabeth pressed herself more closely against Will, her face the absolute picture of contentment. Will's expression softened into a smile.

"Well, if you're happy, I'm happy." He suddenly adjusted his posture, straightened his hat, and surveyed the ballroom with an air of very exaggerated dignity. He heard Elizabeth giggle at him near his shoulder.

"Elizabeth," he paused, "do you think we should've invited Jack?" 

Elizabeth gave him a perplexed look. She remembered what Jack had said after they'd been rescued from the deserted island on which they'd been marooned by Barbossa. _"A wedding – I love weddings! Drinks all around!"_

"He'd have liked that. But if we had invited him, Commodore Norrington would have tried to kill him — oh, good afternoon Lord Carrington!"

The conversation ceased abruptly and both Will and Elizabeth rushed smiles onto their faces as another small group of aristocrats congratulated Elizabeth, trying to ignore Will as best they could. Once they had disappeared into the throng, Will took up the conversation again.

"We owe him a favor. Without him, I'd never have found you."

"I know that." Elizabeth looked sadly up at the high, domed ceiling. "Will, we don't know where he is, and even if we did, my father would never let us go if we told him we were searching for him."

Will sighed.

"Well, maybe we'll run into him on our honeymoon."

Elizabeth looked doubtfully at Will, who wrapped his arms lovingly around her waist.

"We will see him again, Elizabeth. I can feel it."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

**Author's note: There, now that wasn't so bad, was it? Thank ye kindly for reading, and I hope to get at least one review. I do have another chapter in progress as we speak. I mean, as I speak. And as you read. Okay, I'm finished now.**


	2. Chapter Two

Woo! Next chapter! Enjoy, me hearties. Oh, and once again,

Eh: rhymes with hay; what Canadians say habitually/stereotypically. = this one's particularly important this chapter

Aye: pronounced like "eye". Means yes.

Just some light review for you.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

**Chapter Two – A Parting and a Plundering**

The Saviour, Will decided, was the most lavish ship in the entire Caribbean. He really hadn't expected all this. The only ships he'd seen had been worn down by time and thrashing waves, and were sparsely decorated for maximum speed. This ship, however, was dripping with the most luxurious silks and satins available, and it reminded Will of a small floating palace. Judging by the amount of furniture and other relatively useless items on the ship, it would go at a gruelingly slow pace. He had half a mind to simply throw everything into the sea at that very moment. After all, how could anyone enjoy an ocean breeze if the ship wasn't going fast enough for there to be one? Elizabeth, dressed in her traveling clothes, clambered aboard the Saviour, aided by two of her most trusted servants. 

"I'm not made of glass!" she exclaimed, shaking off her attendants, who had been fussing over her constantly since that morning. She made her way slowly to where Will stood, staring longingly at the sea. Elizabeth encircled his waist with pale, delicate arms.

"How much longer until we leave?" she sighed, sounding slightly impatient.

Will turned around, light dancing in his chestnut eyes.

"Only a few minutes now."

Elizabeth was surprised by the change in him. On land, Will had always seemed outwardly happy. But at this moment, on this ship, he looked different. It was as if being near the ocean removed a mask he'd been wearing for most of his life. He looked – relieved. 

"Elizabeth?"

Will's voice jolted her out of her thoughts. She hadn't realized she'd been staring at him so intently. 

"Hmm? Oh, it's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Will, we're going on our honeymoon. How could anything be wrong?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"All hands on deck! We're under attack!"

The portly captain of the merchant ship, the Saucy Sue, was frantic. This was the second time his ship had been attacked this year. He knew what would happen next, unless his crew miraculously grew some courage and/or skill with weapons in the next few minutes. As soon as he had seen the ship coming toward them, he had known exactly who he'd have to contend with. The ship was the darkest shade he had ever seen, and it was too fast to be real. By the time the ship had hoisted its jolly roger, it was too late. The decision to stand up and fight rather than surrender the cargo was very risky, but the experience the captain had had with his previous employer after losing a large amount of valuable fabric from China had not been pleasant. The valuables on the ship currently were worth even more than those fabrics had been, and the captain did not wish to know what would happen to him if he lost it. Not to mention the fact that he'd have to go without pay again. The crew of the Black Pearl piled over the sides and swung onto the deck of the Saucy Sue, cutlasses and pistols drawn with intent to kill, maim, or otherwise injure anyone who stood in their way. An unusual-looking man stood in the middle of the fray, seemingly unperturbed by the chaos unfolding around him. He appeared to be looking for something, or someone. The next minute, he had disappeared. The captain of the Saucy Sue glanced around anxiously from behind a large stack of crates, aware that the man with the beads in his hair should not be allowed out of his sight for a moment. He had heard tales of this man, most of which described him as mad but disconcertingly cunning. That was not a man that this captain wanted to contend with.

"Am I correct in assuming that I'm addressing the captain of this ship?"

The captain looked up to see a pair of dark, kohl-rimmed eyes staring down at him. He gasped and stepped backwards, tripping over his own feet. 

"Wh-what d'ye want?" cried the captain, a tremor in his voice betraying his fear. The fact that he was significantly shorter than the man in front of him did not help one bit.

Captain Jack Sparrow smiled and placed a congenial arm around the terrified man's shoulders, as if he were simply an old friend that he hadn't seen in a long time.

"I think you know exactly what I'm looking for," he said, gesturing with his free hand for emphasis.

"If – if ye want the cargo, ye're out of l-luck. I'll not be tellin' ye where it is." He straightened up, attempting to plaster a brave face over his pale, doughy, obviously petrified features.

Jack's grin widened. He removed his arm from the merchant's shoulders and turned to face him.

"I'm afraid you have other things to worry about, mate. Seeing as your cargo now belongs to me and my crew, I'm looking for things a bit more like this," He held up a jeweled trinket that the captain recognized as something that had been in his pocket only moments ago, "that you're hiding about your person, savvy?"

The captain gawked at Jack. This man had picked his pocket with a practiced skill and sleight-of-hand unmatched by any street thief he'd encountered before.

"So captain, will you be turning out your pockets, or would you rather I saved you the trouble, eh?" 

Suddenly, the captain found the menacingly sharp blade of a sword just inches away from the side of his face. Although he had the feeling that Captain Jack Sparrow could rob him blind even without a weapon, he decided that doing what the eccentric captain said would be much less inconvenient than getting killed. Jack looked pleased when a pouch stuffed with coins fell to the deck, followed by two rings and a brooch inlaid with sapphires.

"Good man. Now if you'd be so kind as to pick those up for me . . ." 

The trembling captain quickly reached down, wary of the sword still pointed at him, retrieved the trinkets, and handed them to Jack.

"Thanks very much." Jack jumped lightly onto a banister and stepped off, landing with unusual grace onto the main deck.

"Alright, lads-" 

Anamaria growled viciously at Jack.

"-And lady, begging her pardon," he corrected himself hastily, "back to the Pearl!"

"Aye, sir!" the crew replied in unison.

And then they left the Saucy Sue, leaving her crew battered, bruised, and generally wishing that they'd stayed at home. 


	3. Chapter Three

Thank you Poetry in Motion for voicing my thoughts exactly. Sadly, Jacky doesn't get the opportunity to go to the wedding, but there may be some good ol' fashioned aristocrat-shocking later on in the story! Heehee . . . mischief.

Oh yes, and Sebastien is a French spelling, so don't say it should be Sebastian.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

**Chapter Three - Sebastien Moreau**

"Sebastien!" 

"Oui, ma belle fleur?"

"I have work to do!" A blushing maid pulled away from a well-muscled man, who had been flirting ceaselessly with her for a good ten minutes now. Apparently, his charms had been working, because the curvaceous girl seemed very reluctant to go back to her duties.

"My jewel, you are far too beautiful for such servitude." He kissed her hand chivalrously. The maid flushed an even deeper rose color.

"I do like it when you talk like that, Sebastien," she sighed, running her fingers through his hair.

"Je sais, mon amour." He smiled widely as he gave her an indecorous squeeze, one arm around her waist, the other on its way to somewhere indecent. A coarse voice barked orders from above decks, much to the exasperation of Sebastien and his current interest. He cursed angrily, and started toward the narrow wooden stairs leading to the deck.

"Don't leave, Sebastien!" squeaked the maid, grabbing at his arm.

"I will return for you, my dear." He shot her a winning smile, and continued up.

"Sail ho!"

There had been no sign of any other ships since leaving Port Royal, but the sails now rapidly moving above the horizon were unmistakable. Captain Wright of the king's navy brought out a brass spyglass and examined the approaching ship carefully. Will and Elizabeth stood next to him on the deck, trying to make out what the speck was.

"It appears to be flying under British colors, but it is a most unusual color for a merchant vessel." He handed the spyglass to Will, who peered into it intently. What he saw came as a surprise, although he couldn't be certain whether it was a good one or not. The captain strode to the other side of the ship, shouting orders to the men.

"Will?" Elizabeth took in his shocked expression, and concern built up in the pit of her stomach. "What's wrong?"

He removed the spyglass from his eye slowly, trying to digest what he'd seen. 

"It's the Pearl."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

**Author's Note:** Dreadfully sorry for such a short chapter. If you've got a problem with it, may I suggest that you email me at Ireallycouldn'tcareless@goaway.com. Anyway, now that I've been rude to all of you, I express my deepest apologies and still want you to read and review. Please? Pretty please?


	4. Chapter Four

Whee, next chappie. This is an exciting one, so be sure you've got a change of underwear handy.

**Chapter Four – On Undergarments and Brotherly Love**

Elizabeth's eyes darted in disbelief between the astonished face of her fiancé and the growing blob that was the Black Pearl.

"Are you sure?"

"It's definitely her."

"But that means . . . Jack—"

"I know. Let's just hope he isn't planning on looting this ship. We'll have to fight him, unless he stops when he realizes it's us." Will looked through the glass again. "Why is he flying the Union Jack?"

"Honestly Will, don't you know anything about pirates? They fly a friendly flag to get close to their victims, and then . . . they attack . . ." she trailed off, realizing Jack's intentions with chilling certainty. She supposed he couldn't be blamed. After all, it was a magnificent ship they were on, and he was a pirate. His sole purpose in life was to find treasure and spend it. And although there was absolutely nothing admirable about that as far as Elizabeth was concerned, he probably didn't have a choice in the matter. In fact, she'd always wondered about why he had become a pirate in the first place.

Suddenly, her thoughts were cut off by a string of curses. Turning around, she saw the source of the noise. A scrawny man who looked too small for his clothes was speaking in confused, panicked French to his apparent partner, a tall sailor with hair that seemed as though it couldn't decide whether to be red or blonde. The tall one she recognized as Sebastien Moreau, the first mate. He was trying to shush his friend, who was now flailing his arms in the air. 

Only one thing to do – investigate. She left Will giving orders to the crew, and crept around behind the pair of sailors. Carefully, she hid herself behind three barrels stacked on top of one another like a pyramid, which was slightly too close to the first mate and his friend for comfort. She was not fluent in French, but she knew enough to understand a basic conversation. She hoped it was enough. Her curiosity had been piqued, and when Elizabeth's inquisitive nature got hold of her, it didn't let go until it was satisfied.

"You are out of your mind! This cannot work, and it is not worth the risk—"

"There is no risk too dangerous for this purpose!"

"But Captain—"

_"Captain?"_ Elizabeth thought, getting more and more uneasy.

"How many thousands of times have I told you, Michel? It is for honor. My honor. Your honor depends upon my honor, so you will serve me as faithfully as you are able, tu comprends?" He was evidently accustomed to expressing superiority freely. And the way he spoke was too refined to be an ordinary pirate's dialect.

The smaller man looked nervously at his captain.

"Oui, je sais, je sais," he blurted hastily, as if pausing another second would mean certain death.

"Now go and give the order."

"As you wish, mon capitaine." He trudged off in his oversized boots toward the thronging mass of sailors. 

Elizabeth was shaking, and hadn't realized how difficult it had been to breathe for the past few minutes. Of course! She was wearing one of those damned corsets again. She was only putting herself through this torture because she'd overheard the maids gossiping animatedly about how unladylike she was. She wished she hadn't let them get to her. Well, no time for losing control now. Will had to know about this. She moved to get up, leaning on the wooden wall beside her for support. It squeaked loudly and unexpectedly, drawing Sebastien Moreau's attention to the exact spot in which she was struggling to her feet.

"Ah, bonjour, Madame! Have you had a pleasant morning? I sincerely hope," he pulled out a very sharp dagger and held it against Elizabeth's neck, "that I have not caused you inconvenience." His voice was now a dangerous whisper.

Darkness was closing in from all sides, and Elizabeth suddenly felt very cold. "_What a wonderful time you've picked to faint, Lizzie_,"she thought, trying to suppress the fear and shock causing her sudden inability to breathe. Sebastien, however, recognized that she was about to lose consciousness and smiled to himself.

"My dear lady," he said, catching her in mid-fall, "such garments are not practical on a ship."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Captain!" Gibbs puffed, trotting quickly towards Jack.

"Aye?"

"We can't attack that ship."

"Why not?" He looked at Gibbs as if he were a madman.

Gibbs shifted uneasily, "Well, it's already being attacked." He gave Jack a cautious glance and looked back at the Saviour. "Jack, there be no other ships in these waters 'cept the Pearl." His voice was hushed and serious. 

Jack pulled out a scratched and dented telescope, and surveyed the rapidly progressing battle on the ship they'd been following. He closed it quickly and put it away.

A puzzled expression appeared on his face. "Looks a bit like a mutiny to me."

Gibbs looked up warily. "What be yer course of action, cap'n?"

The sly grin he always wore returned to Jack's expression.

"No sense wasting good treasure, eh?" He strode back to the helm and adjusted the wheel slightly to head for the Saviour.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Sebastien, or Captain Moreau as he was about to become, stood outside the door of the captain's quarters, fingering the only key that fit its gilded lock. Surely Madame Turner would be comfortable there, for the time being. Certainly, she was a pretty young thing. The gormless idiot she'd married didn't deserve such a prize. And obviously she came from a wealthy family. If Sebastien decided he didn't want to keep her for himself, she'd probably fetch a nice ransom.

"Sebastien!" The maid he had been trying to seduce earlier was standing in front of him, looking confused and scared as the melee on deck unfolded behind her.

"Did I not say I would return for you, ma belle fleur?" He brought his dagger across her throat quicker than she could blink and let her fall, blood spraying the door. Sebastien wiped his dagger on the maid's dress and put it back in his belt, smiling with satisfaction. After assessing the probability that she'd be carrying anything of value on her person, he left the body and made for the quarterdeck. 

By now, every sailor on the ship loyal to His Majesty had either been disposed of or captured. Even Will was struggling against two inordinately large and bulky pirates, whose bone-crushing grip was, to say the least, difficult to break. He had seen that bastard Moreau lock Elizabeth in the captain's quarters, and she had been the only thing on his mind ever since. This was making him crazy. His only wish in the world at that moment was to kill the two numbskulls holding him back and go for Moreau's throat. But no matter how many times he gathered his strength and tried to throw his captors off, his efforts were to no avail. Anger boiled up inside him, scorching every fiber of his being and searing the mercy out of his soul. 

"Faire attention, mes frères!" The new captain addressed his faithful crew from the front of the quarterdeck. "We have done well, friends! The Saviour is ours! Throw the bodies overboard and do what you will with the women." The terrified whimpers of several maids wrenched at Will's heart.

"Ah, and what is it that we have here, mes frères?" He descended to the deck and advanced towards Will, the rest of the crew forming a circle around them. 

"You are Monsieur Turner, n'est-ce pas?"

"That is no business of yours," snarled Will, all the untapped fury of years of repression surfacing in his voice. Moreau laughed.

"My friends, let us show Monsieur Turner some courtesy!" The circle of pirates drew blades and pistols in unison, malicious grins passing over their grubby, toothless faces.

"I beg your pardon, mate," grinned Jack, who was standing nonchalantly on the side of the ship, holding onto some rigging, "but you seem to be making a terrible mistake."

Moreau stared in astonished silence at this new arrival and the pitch-black ship floating behind him. While he and his crew had been taking over the Saviour, they hadn't even noticed the Pearl slide noiselessly closer. And wasn't that . . .

"Jack Sparrow! Old friend! How many years has it been?" silent glee danced in Moreau's eyes as he unsheathed his sword. This was more than perfect.

"Did you miss me, darling?" Jack's grin widened as he drew his sword.


	5. Chapter Five

I know it's been a VERY long time. And I mean VERY. But I got reviewed recently! Wow! That means I have to update! hinthint

So Jack finally enters the picture. Well it's about time.

**Chapter Five – Fear and Loathing**

The crowd formed an arena around the pair of pirates. Moreau struck out viciously at Jack's torso, but Jack leaned back slightly, avoiding the blade by inches. He countered as Moreau moved to strike again, relishing in the adrenaline rush.

"I believe you have improved since last we met, Jack."

"That's Captain Jack, if you please, but it was very thoughtful of you to notice."

Will had stopped struggling. He was still trying to absorb the situation, without much success. The thugs holding Will back were equally absorbed in the fight, and had inadvertently loosened their vice-like grasp. He didn't move, hoping that an opportunity to escape might arise sometime soon. Something caught the corner of his eye. He turned his head slightly to look, keeping the motion minimal so as not to draw attention. He could see Gibbs, Anamaria, Cotton, and at least a dozen other pirates motioning wildly, trying to tell him to make a break for it and head for the Pearl. He tried mouthing the words, "I can't," to them, but they either didn't understand or couldn't see properly. He couldn't leave without Elizabeth. And what would happen to Jack if he left now?

"_Move, you bloody idiot!_" He'd discussed the plan with everyone on the Pearl. Distract the Saviour's crew, get close enough so that Will could hop onto the Pearl, and get away as fast as they could. The fact that Will hadn't even tried to leave defied logic, as far as Jack was concerned. He couldn't hold off Moreau forever. Not a good thing to expect some pathetic wimp of a captain and instead meet someone who's sworn to kill you in the most horrible way possible and happens to be rather good with a sword. He hadn't even expected to need his sword so soon. Now Jack was faced with the fact that this daring rescue might actually pose him a problem. He found that Moreau wasn't giving him an inch, and being surrounded by a large group of the most hostile pirates on the seven seas didn't make his position any better.

"Capitaine, zey are trying to 'elp him!" cried one of the crew in a French accent so thick it was almost comical. Moreau whipped around momentarily, looking first at the Pearl, then at Will, and back to Jack, resuming the battle with more ferocity than before.

"Kill him before he escapes, you imbeciles!" Moreau roared.

Will remained motionless. Exasperated, and against his better judgment, Jack gave Will a forceful look. At least one of them would get away, even if it wasn't him.

"Go! Run!"

Will hesitated for a split second, then realized that Jack was endangering his own life by telling him to run for it. He didn't need telling twice. He broke away from the disoriented guards and outran a large number of crewmembers who were hot on his tail. He took hold of the rope Gibbs threw over to him, vaulted over the side of the Saviour, and swung across to the safety of the Pearl.

Sword fighting rule number one: never take your eyes off your opponent. Pain exploded in Jack's left shoulder, and he looked to find the sword of Sebastien Moreau embedded in it up to the hilt, pinning him against the wooden wall of the captain's quarters.

Elizabeth woke sharply, startled to find a blade sticking out of the wall, half an arm's length away from her face. She could hear voices outside, and they didn't sound friendly. The blade was withdrawn slowly, leaving a thin hole in the wood. Then a scuffle broke out, and she heard blows being exchanged. A loud thump on the wall next to her made her start, and she scrambled out of the bed in which she'd been lying. Her corset was on the floor in a tangle of laces, next to the dress she'd been wearing over it. That bastard! He'd left her half-naked! Granted, she'd probably have suffocated if he hadn't, and she was still wearing her rather substantial underclothes, but it was nevertheless inexcusable behavior. It would be impossible to put the corset back on. Normally she'd have a team of uncommonly strong maids to pull the laces tight, but this room seemed to suffer from a distinct lack of burly female servants, so she searched for something easier to wear. After a while, she came to the conclusion that this was definitely the captain's quarters, considering that the only clothes readily available were men's clothes, and that she had found a large collection of medals and badges in one of the drawers. She'd worn men's clothing before, and found it much more comfortable than what she was normally expected to wear, so she grabbed a shirt and some trousers to change into.

Elizabeth inspected herself in the long mirror standing next to the bed, and found her attire acceptable. Odd-looking, but it would work for the time being. She walked to the door of the cabin and tried the handle. To her surprise, it didn't turn. Then she berated herself for being so stupid. Of course it was locked! No self-respecting pirate would ever leave a captive in an unlocked room! Finally the weight of her situation hit her fully. She was, once again, the prisoner of a bunch of bloodthirsty knaves whose only goals were to rob people blind and ravish as many women as possible before they died of some horrible rat-borne disease. Of course, this time the pirates were mortal. That would make things a bit easier, wouldn't it?

Leaning down, Elizabeth looked through the keyhole in the door. Not much was visible more than four or five feet away, but what she did see made her feel immediately and severely ill. She resisted the urge to gag as she saw a maid, her throat slit clean across, lying prostrate with eyes open only a short distance away from the door. She held a shaking hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, hoping the horrible image would go away. "_Think of something nice. Think of . . . Will._" Yet another awful realization hit her already reeling mind. Was he alright? Did he . . . . did they . . .

And what had happened to the rest of the crew? What about the captain? She remembered Will protesting before they left at not being allowed to captain the ship himself, but Captain Wright didn't deserve the fate that had likely befallen him. The clothes she was wearing could belong to a dead man.

She began slamming her fists against the thick door, hoping a faithful member of the crew would hear her and let her out. No one came running, no one even heard her. Rising panic built up in the pit of her stomach. She listened again at the keyhole, trying to discern a voice, any voice. Nothing. There was no sound but the faint breaking of waves against the ship's hull. Even the commotion she'd heard earlier had stopped. She screamed in frustration, throwing herself at the door one last time before sliding to the ground in tears. What could she do? Just wait until those filthy pirates let her out of here? She'd go insane with worry by then, whenever that was. Still, maybe he was alright. Maybe they'd sent Moreau and his accomplices to the bottom of the ocean. She could only hope.

Elizabeth wondered how she could have changed so imperceptibly from being a mild-mannered English lady to wishing for the deaths of other people, even if they were pirates. She knew a pirate. He didn't deserve to die, so what made all the other pirates any different?

She stood up abruptly when she heard footsteps outside the door. There was a sickeningly conspicuous pause as whoever was approaching stepped over the corpse of the maid.

"You will come with me," A short, very dirty man grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her outside.

Had Elizabeth not been determined to show these pirates no weakness, she would have taken the liberty of vomiting. The deck of the Saviour was steeped in blood, the smell of it hung heavily in the air, and bodies of the crew were strewn all over the place. There were bodies in the sea around the ship. She could barely stand breathing, let alone looking at the carnage, but she forced herself to search the corpses in case Will was amongst them. Her heart lifted when she found he wasn't there, but her mind kept coming up with other ways Will may have met his untimely end. She had to know. If those pirates didn't kill her, this would.

And what had happened to the Pearl? It had been steadily closing in on them before she had her little meeting with Moreau, and now it was nowhere to be seen. It couldn't have got away that fast, could it? How long had she been asleep?

The stairs squeaked mournfully as she was led down them. One of Commodore Norrington's nuggets of wisdom popped into her mind. "_Even the finest ship in the world has its creaks and groans."_ With every step, she could feel more and more wood above and around her. Elizabeth remembered how roomy and clean-cut everything had seemed on her first tour around the interior of the ship, but now it felt dank and musty. The air grew thick with the stench of unwashed human, which made her even more reluctant to breathe than she had been on deck. She and Will had kept to the upper layers of the ship where it didn't smell so foul, but she didn't have much choice now.

"Where are we going?" she snapped fiercely at the grease-caked pirate pulling her along. He stopped, forcing Elizabeth to quickly regain her balance.

"To see the captain. And you'll speak when you're spoken to if you want to live."


End file.
